Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs8 September 2008
I have quit drinking during the week and all it took was some mild brain-washing from a life coach neighbor—former NYPD. Somehow, while speaking with him, something clicked and I realized that I am a slave to my desires and ignore intelligent forces within. And last weekend, I drank like a normal person. I never needed Dumbo’s feather. It’s within me.
13 October 2008
Something strange has taken over. I can be honest about the pervasive loneliness of my days and nights—but honestly it makes me feel defeated. As a single, successful 31 year-old woman I’m supposed to bask in my achievements in independence, or so the magazines tell me, but instead I find myself reliving moments with men who eventually chose anything but to have me in their lives. It’s easy to feel sorry for myself, but it’s just as easy to declare a change. Either effort is futily exerted effort.
21 October 2008
Last night I made out with four boys. Tonight I am alone and incredibly sad. Of the four it is the one who seems to show the least interest to which I have taken a shine. Of course.
11 November 2008
Farrah: I’m gonna get you to tell me your secret.
Alex: I’m in love with you.
And that was that.
23 February 2009
Much time has passed since my last entry. Probably because I spend most of it with a wonderful man who fulfills me. There are no complaints—except one, from him: my drinking. This has resurfaced into a potential detriment to a relationship. He told me to fix it or he would leave. It wasn’t as so much a threat as it was a testament to what he is able to tolerate. I appreciate his honesty and wonder why I am so reluctant to undergo this change that I so badly want myself.
21 May 2009
I will not focus on the things I neglect. I will not abuse myself for the things I ‘don’t do’ which I believe may make me happier. I will instead post facts:
I am dating a 23 year old man.
He acts 23
I am 32 years-old
I am moving to AZ in two months and will, consequently, be apart from him
My faith is shaken by relationships past
I have received discouraging words from friends
Taking away someone’s hope is tragic and unfair
So, what to do? This boy can’t handle a woman. He’s not a man yet, and I’m not interested in being the one who teaches him how to be one…or to wait until he is. At this point I wonder why I even bother; most of the relationship is a disappointment and I’m exhausted from feeling second best—to his friends. I am SO available because I don’t know how else to be.
10 June 2009
We broke up. This seems less than surprising, and I am less than impressed with his or my behavior. He claimed to no longer be ‘stoked’ as his 23 year-old mentality is wont to do and I finally had to face the fact that it hasn’t been good for months. The handsomeness and party kept me entangled in his mess. I realize now that it is not enough.
25 June 2009
Last night would have marked our 10 months. And in the big picture, what does that mean? Ten months of misery, cheating, questioning every text message. He was a bad guy. Still is. Yet I keep him around sexually. It’s a balance that I’m trying to establish. It will most definitely end in tears and destruction.
1 December 2009
I live in Tucson again. In a condo that comes equipped with a gym, two parking spots and interesting neighbors. What I brought from Monterey was two dogs, some clothes, a car and a drinking problem. It is the last which I wish to discuss now.
My every night is entangled and enmeshed and enraptured with drink. This has resulted in a complete lack of productivity and confidence. Consequently, I have received an Incomplete for film class and played mistress with an engaged man. A friend reminded me of my abilities and my potential to triumph. She said to have faith in myself. Now it’s the girl in the mirror I need to convince.
3 December 2009
I am mad at myself for getting involved with an unavailable man. It hurts to let him go because I will never meet such a person who made me laugh ever again. Although Dave made me laugh…so I’ve met this person in theory twice. Hmmm.
I really dislike Will's reaction to all this. He has purposely isolated himself from me because of potential sex—even though sex wasn’t a prevalent part of our relationship—he remains scared of the potential. But that just sums it all up when it comes to all things Will: fear motivated every decision he made. Why should he stop now?
23 February 2010
He’s like the sad silence
immediately following masturbation
That moment when the warmth and intensity
quickly escape (where do they go?)
And you’re suddenly aware—on your back, vulnerable—
Just how alone and pathetic you are.
I’m also raw to the touch, saturated
in thoughts of him,
Mentally fighting the same face
the one that delivered so much pleasure seconds prior.
He is no longer welcome in my thoughts. I’ve gotten what I needed.
Punching him in the mouth with my thoughts
Trying to escape his tortuous gaze,
His cruel smile
His light eyes…blinding sparkle causing unrest.
Now he rests uneasily upon me—
that barren silence only interrupted
by the space heater on the nightstand—
still perfectly aligned to my breasts,
but failing to serve its masturbatory purposes of sound and sensation,
It’s just a space heater. On my naked chest. That’s the thing after masturbation:
When you’re done,
Things go back
to what they are.
25 February 2010
It wasn’t the words of an old friend who helped me tonight, but what I realized after he’d said them: I could never comfortably date Will because he did a very bad thing to his fiancée. And as much as I’d like to revel in the fact that his infidelity was not as bad because it wasn’t with a different girl from a different bar every night, but with one girl, it was still deceptive and easy. That’s the gross part. It was all too easy for him.
19 June 2010
“I am blue and unwell”
-J. Newsom
now it’s done. A boy. Don’t meet them at bars. I have to accept the fact that I’m cursed. I should stop trying. Three dates, sex once. Dinner, cocktails and the realization that he’s ‘just not that into me’. I am not upset that we won’t be moving forward—he was a baby-carrot dick who spit all the time and interrupted me constantly. I’m upset that I fucked it up by my aggressive behavior. He says my bossiness was the deal breaker. Is it time to change now? I really don’t want to. I genuinely like myself. But let’s face facts. Something needs to happen because whatever I’m doing isn’t working; perhaps tweaking some dating behavior wouldn’t be so bad…actually…No. Now that I’ve come to think of it, I’ve had plenty of men in my life who loved my personality. He’s just an over-sensitive pussy.
24 August 2010
Beauty in all this
Summer as a season is still with us. Summer as a vacation has excused itself and I am happy to say that I sodomized the fucker. After a notorious battle resulting in self-defeat (I was bound to win or lose the fight against myself), I realize that my ammunition and artillery of wine, cigarettes and unrealistic romantic expectations was illogical. So, I went to CA. it would be more appropriate to describe the departure as getting the hell out of Tucson. The past six weeks in SJ were a mish-mash of sobriety, an intense isogenix cleanse, exercise, friends and dad.
Luckily, the good habits followed me back to Tucson. I guess what they say about 30 days to create a habit is true. I’m exercising every day, eating well, drinking only on weekends and most importantly, deal with the boredom which used to lead to my excessive drinking by remember Jung’s statement that “neurosis stems from man’s attempt to escape life’s legitimate suffering”. So, I finally realize, this is as good as it gets. And I’m finally trying to settle in and make the most of it.
27 October 2010
Strange to be in Tucson again sometimes. I’ve been overly conscious of my loneliness lately. If only to have a companion. At this time last year, Will and I were preparing for Vegas. His baby will be born any day now. He seems a million miles ago. I miss the friend, not the boyfriend. We hated the same people. We found absurdity in the same things. That’s friendship to me. That’s what I miss.
21 February 2011
It’s not going to stop/till you wise up
-Aimee Mann
I don’t know where to start. Maybe a list:
Family: Two grandmothers and my favorite uncle have died in the last two months. I miss my mom and have suddenly become conscious of my dad’s mortality. I’m fairly convinced that my sister thinks I’m the worst.
Friends: I want a buddy.
School: I may go to Turkey to study the Iranian trans community. For fear of governmental repercussions opted out of Iran. In all honesty though, I want to drop out. I’m suddenly aware of how futile this is and can’t help from asking myself “who cares”?
Boys: I’ve been waiting for a boy to call me since my early 20s. I’m bored and defeated. Today is a casual and dirty boy named Dan.
Me: Great, but slightly jaded from all this.
10 March 2011
My new philosophy on dating: do what you want, just don’t overstay your welcome.
5 April 2011
The grand gesture of hope: start the pill after you meet someone. Today it’s a 33 year old handsome Midwesterner. I still carry around the possibility that I’m cursed. A few months ago I realized that I’m actually just a bitch. So, I stopped being a bitch. Then I met him.
19 April 2011
The past two weeks would tell the story of a girl trying to get through the day—and in-between the times he’s calling or texting, she squeezes in the mundane and petty activities she had formerly known as ‘her life’. These include working out, drinking water, not boozing during the week, tanning, school, playing with dog, avoiding annoying roommate, cleaning/thinking about cleaning my room, teaching, working at the curriculum development place, smelling good, and keeping up with friends back home. These are the things I ‘fill my time up with’ in the between his texts and calls which occur about every two days.
It’s gotten better than it was in the past. I’m maintaining my sense of self. Making him not the whole pie but just a few pieces. Now to reduce the size of his pie in my life--If only to live life based on the realization that that catalogue of activities is what gives my meaning, value, color and purpose.
2 May 2011
I scared off another one and currently berating myself for my incessant need to know what’s going on. Instant replays, flashbacks, split seconds and detailed play-by-plays are what drive me to the brink of asking this question. For fear of being led on and the fact that I’m super confused and it took this guy 9 texts to ask me out, I asked.
Instead of berating myself for my inability to ‘go with the flow’ I must accept instead the fact that I will never be able to ‘go with the flow’ and the only time I’ve ever come close is when I have the assurance of his interest. Ten years with this book and I just figured it out…yet I still feel that I know nothing.
5 May 2011
I am cognizant of the fact that upon its perusal in the coming years, the following sentence will be met with disappointment and a devilish grin, but I will still write it: I have to go to Istanbul in five weeks and I’m scared to death.
The anxiety stems from lack of language/knowledge of culture, having to find somewhere to live for a month, and—ever so frightful—being by myself. Although there will be a friend living there and a girl travelling with me part of the time, I feel helpless and without any sense of control.
Again, I’m sure it will be fine. And I hope (maybe tomorrow?) to start looking at this as an adventure rather than the scary monster haunting my head and disturbing my wake.
13 June 2012
In the spirit of total disclosure: I feel no interest in filling this page. While packing my home in this dusty desert town, I came across this book and thought it fit to fill what I assumed was the last page with thoughts, fears, trepidations and hopes of the future. this includes Wisconsin to learn Turkish, Turkey to research, Tucson to collect belongings, back to CA to return car, DC to write dissertation, and London to continue on with a lovely and incredible man named Johann.
But this wasn’t the last page, so I’ll leave it.
Sep 4, 2012
One drink is never one drink. You are not able to live that lifestyle—no matter how much you want it. It’s not because you’re weak, but because you’re human and all humans have imperfections. I don’t want yours to be where you put a shotgun to your head.
It was boring sober, but it was livable, feasible, and functional. Besides to be totally honest, you were happier too. If anything, everything feels so much worse right now.